Scarlet
by HighWind
Summary: Pretty angsty fic about Amarant's past in Treno. It's a first attempt, so have mercy.
1. Prologue: A Legend is Born

Scarlet  
By HighWind  
  
DISCLAIMER: Amarant Coral and any other FFIX characters/locales/references are copyrighted to Square.   
  
Prologue: A Legend is Born  
  
My name is Amarant Coral, and I am one of the depressingly large number of people who can say he's been through hell and lived to tell about it. I guess it would be romantic if I could say I have no memory of my parents, was forced to live on the streets, and survived because of hard work and perseverence. The truth is that I remember my parents all too well, left home quite by choice, and survived by lying, cheating, and engaging in a great deal of illegal activity.   
  
I guess I'll talk about my parents first. It's surprisingly hard for me to do, actually. Freya asked me about them once. All I told her was that my first memory was of a guy I had to fight. In truth, that isn't my first memory at all, but it's the one that sticks out most in my mind. I have only fleeting memories of my mother, all pleasant, and thus unimportant to this story. She passed on when I was tiny, and in a way I'm glad she can't see what I've become. Anyway, it was just me and my dad for as long as I can remember. I blame a great deal of the way I've lived my life on that fact. Because unlike my mother, who was kind, caring, and affectionate, my father was abusive, angry, and all-in-all made my life a living hell. Around the time I turned ten, he apparently decided it was necessary to constantly get very drunk and then beat the crap out of me. I've got the scars to prove it. Maybe I reminded him too much of Mother-I had inherited her firey red hair-and he couldn't bear to see me. Maybe I was just too much of a smartass for my own good, which really hasn't changed. Either way, I eagerly awaited the day I'd be bigger and stronger than he was, so I could finally teach him a lesson.   
  
Being alone during the day and growing up in a hellhole like Treno, I ran into all the wonders of the slums at an early age. One of those wonders was how to defend myself. And so, on my fourteenth birthday (for which, naturally, I received no gifts) I was ready to show ol' pops a thing or two. Yes, this day would go down in history as the day I finally showed my father that I was a man. When I told the story to Freya over a decade later, I would conveniently leave out the part about him getting back up, beating the hell out of me, and kicking me out of his house. I like to pretend that I simply ran away. At the time, I had convinced myself that I could have gone back if I wanted to. The truth is, I honestly didn't care. Besides, near-certain death on the mean streets of Treno couldn't be much worse then absolutely certain misery living with my father, right? ...Right?  
  
I was right about one thing. This day WOULD go down in history, at least in my mind. Because this was the day that the Legend of the Flaming Amarant began... 


	2. Kapps and Fangs

Scarlet  
By HighWind  
  
DISCLAIMER: Amarant Coral and any other FFIX characters/locales/references are copyrighted to Square.  
  
Chapter One: Kapps and Fangs  
  
There are really only two kinds of people in the world, and especially in a place like Treno: very rich, and very poor. And while I didn't exactly live like a king with my father, on my own I was, for the first time, staring true poverty dead in the face. And so here I was, fourteen years old, alone and frightened and broke on the streets of the most dangerous city in the world. What would you do?  
  
I did the only thing I could think of: I joined the party. If crime was what drove this city, then dammit, I wouldn't be left behind.   
  
It's funny, but when you are forced to live like an animal-when every day is literally a fight for survival-you kind of start to think like one too. Primitive concepts such as safety in numbers, and only the strong survive, become the words you live and die by. And so, before long, I was no longer alone. Still broke, still frightened, and still on the streets, but not alone. To tell you the truth, I don't remember the names of the people I ran with in those first months on the street. Names didn't matter, words didn't matter. What mattered was survival. And survival was really just a longer word for money.  
  
It was easy at first. In the beginning, you tried to follow the law. Simply approach a rich-looking old guy, and beg. Ask for money, food, anything. And when the prick inevitably gave you a look of disgust and decided your life wasn't worth his pocket change, your buddies jumped out of the shadows and you mugged him. Really, that was the desirable outcome. You got more that way. Not just more money, but also more satisfaction. Because in addition to fattening your wallet, you get a little piece of vengeance on someone from the upper class. No matter who you are, if you're poor, anyone with money is the enemy. Unfortunately, they aren't the only enemy: they aren't even the most dangerous one.  
  
Kapps vs. Fangs. It was an urban legend that was nearly as old as the city itself. The Kapps and Fangs were, for lack of a better term, rival gangs. But they were more then that to the people involved. This wasn't just some sort of feud over turf: this was an all-out war. The battle between the Kapps and Fangs produced more horror stories, more crimes, and, unfortunately, more casualties then anything else I've ever seen in my life. And believe me, I've seen a lot.   
  
The concept was fairly simple: no one was neutral. If you were poor in Treno, you were either a Kapp or a Fang, period. If you weren't either, you didn't last very long.  
Because Kapps didn't just see Fangs as their enemies: they saw anything not a Kapp as enemies. The same went for the Fangs. If you weren't wearing blue, you'd better be wearing red. And no matter what you were wearing, you'd better be strong enough to do your share of work and make your "brothers" proud. Because dead weight translated into dead bodies.   
  
In a way, I was lucky. For starters, my shocking red hair made me a natural Fang...a mascot, I liked to think at the time. Aside from that, I was young, strong, already a head taller then most grown men despite my age, and desperate to survive. I was exactly what the Fangs were looking for. And so, before I knew it, I was officially a big shot in the world of organized crime. Far from the biggest shot, however.  
  
That honor would have gone to Bruce. A tall, well-built man in his early thirties, Bruce was tough as nails and as merciless as anyone I'd ever met. Bruce wasn't the leader of the Fangs, but he was close; and, as head recruiter for the gang, he was in charge of all the "young blood" like me. We thought of him as a mentor, a friend. For many of us, including me, Bruce seemed to be the first person we could truly trust. However, that didn't make him any less hard on us.  
  
Bruce was completely devoted to showing us the ins and outs of our "business", and that included the harsh reality of it all. Do well, and you were rewarded. Screw up, and you'd meet several well-aimed blows from his ever-present baton. Like most of the Fangs, I'd been recruited by Bruce just when it seemed I had nowhere else to turn. He'd watched me snatch some food from an unwary street vendor and, impressed with my cunning (and/or lack of a conscience) asked for my name.   
  
i"What do they call you, kid?"  
  
Having forsaken the name my father gave me, I wasn't sure what to say. "I...have no name."  
  
"No name? Hmm...alright, Scarlet then. How's that sound for a gang name?"  
  
"A gang name...you a Fang?" I noticed his telltale red bandana for the first time.  
  
He nodded. "So are you, now. Come with me."/i  
  
I figured, "hey, this is my big chance! Finally I have somewhere to turn!" I figured I was set for life.  
  
I was wrong. 


	3. In Cold Blood

Scarlet  
By HighWind  
  
Sorry this one took so much longer to get up...I've had a lot going on lately. Hopefully it's worth the wait...and of course, thanks very much for all the positive reviews so far! It's really encouraging to know someone is actually ENJOYING this little mess of words...  
  
DISCLAIMER: Amarant Coral and any other FFIX characters/locales/references are STILL copyrighted to Square.  
  
Chapter Two: In Cold Blood  
  
It didn't take long for me to rise through the ranks of the Fangs. To this day, I'm not sure if that's due to my own skill or favoritism from Bruce and the others at the top. Regardless, after about a year I was without a doubt the highest ranking of the really young guys.  
  
Naturally, in that time I also grew to have my own little 'clique'. For the first time, I really felt like I had a good bunch of friends I could rely on. Naturally, there was Bruce, who by this point seemed to be my big brother. We almost always worked together when he was handed an assignment: whether it was a raid, burglary, or a professional hit.  
  
And therein lied the first of my problems within the gang: fighting to the death. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't that I couldn't do it because of moral limitations. I simply wasn't equipped for the job.  
  
You see, up until that point I'd always relied solely on my fists for defense. The way I saw it, they were a weapon that I couldn't lose, and that no one could steal. To me, the knowledge that I defeated someone with my own fist gave me a sense of satisfaction. No one could say that the weapon had made the man; no one could deny that I won solely because of my own strength.  
  
Unfortunately, as much satisfaction as I got for laying an enemy out with a well placed punch, it's hard to kill someone with your knuckles. Most of the gang carried daggers or even swords, but that really wasn't my style.  
  
"How 'bout wrist blades?" Bruce suggested one day.  
  
"Um...wrist blades?"  
  
"Check these out," he'd said, motioning me to join him. What he showed me was a sort of gauntlet with three long metal claws protruding from the front. "It's really pretty simple. You wear these and that knockout punch of yours turns into instant death. I honestly can't think of a more appropriate weapon for you."  
  
I was a bit skeptical at first. But when I wore the claws to my first 'rumble', I knew.  
  
Rumbles...they were what made the war between the Kapps and Fangs what it was. A rumble was simple...a mass free-for-all between the two gangs. Rumbles were infamous for being the time when the men were separated from the boys; the men were the ones who survived. Needless to say, I was nervous as hell when I was told I'd be sent to one, although I didn't admit it then. I'd have to be able to kill to save my own skin. I'd have to try the claws.  
  
It was a thing of beauty. Violent, brutal beauty, but beauty all the same.  
  
It sounds terrible, barbaric. But at the time, there was no greater feeling of triumph then when I first threw my now-legendary punch for the first time with the claws: and to my surprise, the deadly talons slid effortlessly into my opponent's face. It wasn't until I had to roughly yank them back out again that I realized just how much damage they'd done.  
  
The guy was dead, and with three huge gashes in his face to boot. I hadn't stabbed him in the throat or heart, so I was (pleasantly) surprised when he fell dead from one blow. I realized with just a bit of alarm that I must have gone through to his brain.  
  
You read so often about great warriors who were horrified the first time they had to kill. Heroes who almost called it quits when they first saw the light fade from another's eyes. Maybe that's why I'm no hero.  
  
To me, it was bliss.  
  
* * * * *  
  
We won the rumble that day. I honestly couldn't tell you how much of a part I played. All I know is that that was the day I sealed my fate forever. That was the day that I knew I'd never be anything else...never NEED anything else. Gang life was what I was built for. I thought my little display of bloodlust on the battlefield that day proved it.  
  
Bruce didn't seem to disagree.   
  
"To be honest, kid, I didn't know for sure if you had it in ya," he admitted. "I've seen how well you steal. I knew you were made for breaking and entering. And yeah, I knew you were tough..." he paused. "But, the way you fought today...it was amazing. You'll be big kid, you'll be big."  
  
As pitiful as it makes me feel now, Bruce's words that day filled me with greater pride then I'd ever felt in my life.  
  
* * * * *  
  
When I was 15 years old and on my way up the corporate ladder of crime, Anthony Giovanni was one of the richest men in Treno. And, despite having a great name for it, he had no connections at all to the various gangs in the city.   
  
To this day, I think that was his problem.  
  
40,000 gil. That's what Pryce McLane, one of Giovanni's biggest business competitors, was willing to pay to see him dead. We were all too happy to oblige.  
  
Like so many other missions that didn't involve our battle with the Kapps, this job was handed down to Bruce and what had come to be called "his kids". Naturally, he selected me to join the team. Also with us would be a friend of mine named Ralf.  
  
Ralf was about two years my senior, and although he was considerably smaller and not quite as crazy in battle, he was notorious for being a natural born thief if there ever was one. It was a common joke among our ranks that Ralf could probably steal half the clothes off your body before you even realized he was there. I personally got great enjoyment out of walking through a crowd with him just to see how much loot he'd have picked from the nobles' overly heavy pockets by the end. He was also an expert at getting past locks of any kind: essential for an assassination mission.  
  
In addition to Bruce, Ralf and myself, the team would also include a newbie named Clyde. To this day I'm not sure why. Maybe he was the common case of a newly joined gang youngster who needed to be made familiar with the concept of spilling the enemy's blood. Judging by his appearance and demeanor, it's just as likely that Bruce was his baby-sitter. I swear the kid looked twelve.  
  
It should have been a simple mission. Intelligence reports indicated that the arrogant Giovanni, hating to be surrounded by guards all the time, had very light security in his not-so-humble abode. Prick thought he was untouchable. Heh.  
  
The four of us stood silently in a dark alley near Giovanni's mansion. Bruce whispered the plan to us.  
  
"It's pretty simple. There is only one sentry guarding the door, so we simply take him out and hide the body. Then, Ralf picks the lock and we sneak in. Once we get inside, it's not certain where the guards will be, but there should only be about 8 total."  
  
"Only eight!?" Ralf said in disbelief. "This guy has no gang ties and only eight guards...he suicidal?"  
  
Bruce shrugged. "Not like we care. The point is, this job's simple. Still, it seems a little fishy to me too...keep an eye open."  
  
He nodded to me, and I wordlessly glanced out at the guard, who looked like he was either staring out at the water, trying desperately to stay awake, or both. Sneaking over as quietly as a person my size possibly can, I managed to grab the guy by his armor and slap a hand over his mouth. I then slit his throat with my claw in one swift motion that can only be learned by practice. Keeping my hand over his mouth for the last few moments he was capable of using his vocal cords, I then dragged his body back into the alley and threw it into a corner where no one would find it until it was too late. Meanwhile, Ralf dashed to the door and began to work his magic. As I dragged the dead guard by, I caught a look from the Clyde kid that looked like a combination of shocked horror and sheer awe.  
  
I heard Ralf's triumphant snicker as the lock popped open. "All set, boys. Let's go earn us some money, eh?"  
  
I should have been confident. Security was known to be light. I was with my two most trusted friends and allies in the whole world.  
  
So why couldn't I shake the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach...? 


	4. The Rat Trap

Scarlet  
By HighWind  
  
Well, it's been awhile hasn't it? Sorry everybody...I've had everything from computer troubles to phone line troubles to family troubles to school troubles teaming up to kick my ass. This won't be anywhere near worth the horrendous wait, but maybe the promise that I can actually update regularly again is...here's hoping.  
  
Anyway, Amarant Coral and any other FFIX characters/locales/references are, as always, copyrighted to Square.  
  
Chapter Three: The RatTrap  
  
There is nothing in the world more beautiful then a trueborn warrior in the heat of battle. I believed it then, I still believe it now. Watching our gang in action could have only solidified that truth.  
  
We worked like a well-oiled machine. Bruce was everywhere at once, moving faster then even I could follow, clobbering guards left and right with his baton. I realized then that he hadn't been hitting us anywhere near his hardest during his disciplinarian duties: if he had, our skulls would've been splitting just like the guards' were.  
  
Ralph was in rare form too, using his uncanny knack for finding just the right spots between armor plates to stab his dagger. And of course I was doing my thing, tearing up the few guards who had the guts to come after someone my size with my trusty wrist blades. Looking back, even Clyde got one, wielding a rapier he'd probably never held before and back-stabbing a guard who had gotten the drop on Ralph.  
  
Suffice it to say, one gang boss and three street kids in rags made short work of Giovanni's heavily armored eight-man guard team. I think I would've spent my money on better things in his position.  
  
Ironically, actually figuring out where in the hell Giovanni WAS turned out to be much more difficult then eliminating his guards. This guy's mansion was absolutely enormous, and to me it seemed like every damned hallway looked the same. The only thing that broke up the monotony of opening door after beautifully crafted door in search of our prey was the occasional necessary elimination of a servant, or Bruce's baton smacking Ralph's hand as he tried to steal something expensive-looking.  
  
Then we spotted it: a massive double-door at the end of a hallway with an ornate "G" decoration on it.  
  
"That's GOT to be it," I reasoned.  
  
"Here's hopin'. This is getting tedious!" complained Ralph.  
  
"Shh!" Bruce was all business when we were on duty.  
  
Carefully, the four of us crept towards the doors. We all drew our weapons and, on a silent count of three, Bruce threw the doors open and we leaped dramatically into the room. It was dark; very dark. But we could see a rather rotund figure lying in a nearby bed.  
  
"There he is..." sneered Bruce with more then a little triumph in his voice. "Clyde, light a candle."  
  
Obediently, the newbie fumbled around in the dark a bit before he finally stumbled upon a candle and, lighting a match on the table it sat on, illuminated the room.  
  
"The hell!?"  
  
Bruce's surprised exclamation wasn't without warrant. We'd found Giovanni, all right; we'd also found the reason he didn't need security.  
  
"His throat's slit...he's already dead!?" Ralph sounded as baffled as I felt.  
  
"Oh, shit..." Bruce came to a realization. "It's-"  
  
"A trap." A voice sneered. We turned, and a tall, lanky guy in a blue bandana was holding Clyde at knifepoint. In a flash, there were four more of them around us. Kapps.  
  
"I recommend you all stay still," the cocky man who appeared to be their leader said. "Cooperate and I promise we will give you quick, painless death."  
  
I started to take a step towards him, but Ralph's halting gesture and a tightening of the Kapp's arm around Clyde's neck stopped me.  
  
"Tsk tsk..." the leader laughed. "Don't want your little friend here to get hurt do you?"  
  
Bruce stared coldly at his new enemy. "Scarlet, Ralph...think the two of you can handle those two on the left?"  
  
I automatically glanced over at them. They didn't look so tough. "Well yeah, but..."  
  
The leader seemed perplexed. "What are you talking about!?" He pulled Clyde more directly in front of him so that there was a block between himself and Bruce. "Are you forgetting that I have a hostage!?"  
  
The next moment would change the course of my destiny forever.  
  
"Oh, I see him..." Bruce smirked. "But he isn't gonna do you any good much longer."   
  
In a flash, Bruce had pulled a small throwing knife from his boot and hurled it with blinding speed at his target: Clyde. In a single, cold-hearted move, he'd eliminated the enemy's leverage.  
  
"Better luck in the next lifetime, pal." Before anyone had a chance to even think about moving, the lighting-quick Bruce had once again drawn a throwing knife and let it fly. The Kapp was dead, a throwing knife embedded blade-first in his forehead, before he even had a chance to release Clyde's dead body.  
  
I didn't know what to think. Obviously eliminating the hostage had been a good tactical move, but how could Bruce kill one of his own allies without even a second thought like that!?  
  
I didn't have time to think any further on the subject, because before I knew it the remaining Kapps were on me. My fighting instincts took over and without even really wanting to, I was stabbing my wrist blades into them. Like us, these gangsters wore no armor, only normal street clothing. And while each of these blade-wielding enemies was certainly quite skilled, I was a future legend. They never had a chance.  
  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   
  
As the three of us departed from Giovanni's mansion, I was lost in thought. Not only had we been completely suckered-in to a Kapp trick, but I'd also just watched my own mentor kill one of his own, without even thinking twice about it!  
  
If the Kapps knew we were going to be in Giovanni's mansion, it meant one of two things: either the entire mission had been a set-up all along...or we had a leak.  
  
And more importantly, at least to me, if Bruce was so willing to kill Clyde so quickly just to gain a tactical advantage...what would stop him from doing the same to me? 


	5. Now or Never

Scarlet  
By HighWind  
  
Okay...so it was STILL forever between chapters. Sorry everybody. I'm trying, really I am...anyway, this is a big one.  
  
Oh...and it's come to my attention that the spelling of Ralf's name was accidentally changed to Ralph during the last chapter. Stupid spell-check...anyway, the real spelling is supposed to be RALF. Sorry for any confusion that may have caused (if anyone even noticed...).  
  
You know the drill, Amarant Coral and any other FFIX characters/locales/references are copyrighted to Square. Hasn't changed in all the time since I last updated. I did check.   
  
Chapter Four: Now or Never  
  
I've done a lot of terrible things in my life. I can admit that. However, looking back on it all, I can also find a reason, a good reason, for every mistake I've made. No matter how low I sunk, no matter how stupid a move I made, I had motivation every time. Every time but one.  
  
I don't know why I went back to the Fangs after the ill-fated mission at Giovanni Manor. Maybe it was because I had nowhere else to go. Maybe I felt like I'd never make it on my own. Maybe I thought if I left, I'd be treated as a traitor...hunted down and killed. Killed the way Clyde was...without a second thought. And so, I was held within a world where I had enemies who wished to kill me, and comrades who were willing to. Held there by a fear of dying, no less. Sometimes, it's good to know that whatever gods there may be have a sense of irony.  
  
But the point is, I did stay on as a member of the Fangs despite my knowledge that it was dangerous to do so. After all, I'd fought alongside them for years against the cutthroat, savage, self-serving Kapps. It was only then that I realized my gang wasn't so different from theirs.   
  
For a few months, life went on as it always had. I spent my time collecting protection fees, robbing hole-in-the-wall shops, taking out high-ranking Kapps...business as usual. But one day, I was called aside by Bruce while hanging around in the run-down old building where the younger members of the Fangs lived.  
  
"Scarlet...you remember the incident back at Giovanni's place, right? The mission that was really just a Kapp set-up?"  
  
Of course I remembered. How could I forget? "Uh, yeah, of course...but why?"  
  
He spat on the ground. "It wasn't a setup after all. The job was legit...but the Kapps found out somehow."  
  
"But...our connections are so well-protected...how could the Kapps have ever found out?"  
  
He sighed. "A leak. We had a double-agent within the Fangs...they just found him yesterday."  
  
"Oh yeah? Who was it?"  
  
"Nikolai...one of the highest ranking of all Fangs. One of Mary's most trusted advisors. Needless to say, she ain't pleased."  
  
'Mary' was better known in Treno as Bloody Mary. She was an aristocrat, the daughter of a man who had made a fortune off of an honest trade business. Unsatisfied with her tremendous inheritance, the greedy Mary had put her assets into crime; in other words, she herself had founded the Fangs and was our biggest source of funding. If any one person could be called the leader of the Fangs, it was Bloody Mary. Because of this, her true name and identity were kept a secret, even to most of us. Only the very highest ranking members had ever met her, which is why it was such a big deal that one of them had become a traitor. If the Kapps found out who she really was, no one would be able to protect her...and if she went, the Fangs went. Period.  
  
"Damn...what are we going to do?" To me, this was like the end of the world was coming.  
  
"We strike!" Bruce exclaimed, slamming his fist on a table for emphasis and getting the attention of several of the other guys. "I told you they caught Nikolai? Well he's been interrogated, and they managed to get the location of one of the Kapps' key hideouts outta him. It's a storehouse on the eastern docks, by the big lake...and that's where the big fish of the gang usually hang out. If we launch an all-out assault and take out those key members, this war will be over, and there'll be no stopping the Fangs then!" This got some rousing cheers out of the growing crowd around Bruce. He was a true leader.  
  
"I'm to choose a strike force out of you all tonight," Bruce continued. "We will report to Bloody Mary's mansion tomorrow to receive our briefing. And tomorrow night, for better or for worse, this war comes to an end..."  
  
  
  
Naturally, I was picked. I couldn't sleep all night. Not only was I going to be privileged with meeting Bloody Mary herself, but I would have the honor of going into one of the most important battles, no, THE most important battle, in the history of Kapps vs. Fangs. They thought I was THAT good. They had that much faith in my skills. And so did I.  
  
  
  
Our strike force met the other teams at a pre-disclosed location early the next morning. It was a small group...this truly was the elite of the Fangs. Ralf and Bruce, my two best friends in all the Fangs, were right there with me. I couldn't have been more confident, for as nervous as I was.   
  
"So, this is is Bloody Mary's place..." As we passed inspection from the guards and proceeded into the top-secret estate of our leader, Ralf sounded like a kid in a candy store. To a born thief, a place this rich was hard to resist, even if it did belong to one of your own. Had I been in a more thoughtful mood, I might have seen the irony in the fact that a gang whose ideals were based on fighting the rich, was run by one of the richest people in Treno. I was broken out of my thoughts by the sound of Bruce smacking Ralf in the head and forcing him to return some pearls he'd snatched off a table in the hall as we walked through.  
  
We reached a grand dining hall with walls that looked like pure gold, and there, sitting at the head of a very long table in a throne-like chair, was a rather attractive woman with a slightly devious face. Her hair was long and dark, she looked to be in her late twenties, and naturally, she wore a long, blood red dress and various jewelry. An appropriate appearnace for our fearless leader, I thought.  
  
"Gentlemen, welcome..." she said in a voice that seemed conditioned for making speeches. "Sit, sit, and partake of this grand feast as I bestow upon you your responsibilities for this, the climax of our glorious battle against the Kapps." Yep, she'd done this before. We sat down at the various seats on either side of the table and many people began to grab portions of several expensive-looking food items laid out about the table.   
  
"Not a bad spread," Ralf whispered from the seat next to me before he began stuffing his face with a savory rotisserie chocobo leg. I was inclined to agree, and though I'd intended to give my undivided attention to Bloody Mary, in the end my teenage appetite took over and I too began to partake of the luxurious food. It crossed my mind at this point that being rich wouldn't be so awful after all.   
  
I ate a lot, but not so much that I didn't hear a word Mary said. The concept was simple, but effective: according to intel, our current force would outnumber the Kapps residing in the storehouse by a considerable amount. One smaller group of us would launch a decoy attack on the front of the storehouse, drawing out the guards and, in theory, many of the fighters. After that diversion, the main strike force (which I was a part of) would break in through several side windows and take out any Kapps inside. Finally, the two groups of us would both move in on the Kapps fighting the first group at once, effectively surrounding and overtaking them. With their storehouse in our possession and many of their key members eliminated, we would effectively have taken out much of their leadership and frozen many of their assets, all but completely crippling them as a criminal power.  
  
"Naturally, this victory will come at a price..." admitted Bloody Mary. "Several of you are likely to be forced to give your lives in this battle. But fear not, for to die fighting for your cause is honorable, and when we are victorious, Treno will be ours for the taking! Fight with fierceness in your heart, cunning in your mind, and with your eyes on the glory-filled horizon! You truly are the bravest and freest souls in Treno."  
  
Cheesy speeches aside, I knew Mary was right. And I knew that I could truly make it big within the Fangs if I played a major role in winning the ensuing battle.  
  
I was ready.  
  
  
  
"Damn...can't see a thing," Bruce muttered as he stared through his binoculars at the storehouse. We were lying in a large ditch by the waterfront, just a few hundred feet from our target. It was dark, very dark. It was so cloudy that the moon was completely covered, the fireflies I'd often watched flitting over the grass were nowhere to be found as though they feared what was about to happen, and the only real source of light in this out-of-the-way section of Treno were the lanterns hanging from the walls of the storehouse, and carried by the wandering sentries. I have to admit, the Kapp storehouse was looking pretty ominous in the darkness.  
  
I jumped a bit as I felt a figure slide down into the ditch next to me. I felt a bit silly when I realized it was just Ralf, returned from a scouting mission.  
  
"The decoy team is all in position and ready to go, Bruce," he reported. "At your signal, they will attack, and then we're free to make our move."  
  
"Good work," Bruce offered with rare praise. "Everyone, stay sharp."  
  
With that he cracked his neck, cleared his throat, threw his head back and let out an animal cry I'd heard before in the night but couldn't identify. It didn't take long after that before my sharp eyes spotted arrows sailing into a few of the enemy sentries. They went down hard, a few of their lanterns shattering and starting small brushfires. The remaining sentries, alarmed, cried out for help and before we knew it, a crowd of Kapps poured out of the storehouse and ran out in the direction of the disturbance. As they left the light provided by the lanterns of the storehouse it became more difficult to see what was happening, but we heard the sounds of battle and knew that the final rumble had begun.  
  
"Strike team, forward!" came Bruce's cry. Automatically, like a single living entity, we poured forth from the ditch and stampeded towards the storehouse. A few of those running at the front raised their crowbars and axes and took them to the wooden sidewall and glass windows of the storehouse, and before long we'd broken our way in. There was no need for stealth now, just quick action and the element of surprise.   
  
Almost immediately after we entered, there were Kapps on us. As I entered the fray that had become so familiar, almost involuntarily kicking and slicing at anonymous blue-clad adversaries, I could tell that while we certainly DID have them outnumbered, there seemed to be a lot more Kapps here then we'd suspected. Perhaps we had another leak...  
  
But there was no time to ponder! Fight, fight, fight! Punch, stab, kill, dodge, run, fight! They're on you now! FIGHT!!  
  
Then, as more and more Kapps seemed to realize what a threat I was and tried to team up on me, I felt one of the few sensations in battle I was unfamiliar with:  
  
The feeling I could lose. A panic rushed over me as I was hit with glancing dagger blows, and as I felt the blood pour from my wounds, I felt another new sensation: anger. And let me tell you, when your adrenaline rushes through your veins and you are in a life-or-death situation, anger can be quite an asset.  
  
I've always been an animal in battle, but never like this. Nothing could stop me. I tore through the crowd of enemies that had swarmed me, barreled over yet more, and in a rage I fear I may have even begun to kill a few of my own allies. Never had I felt like that before...never had I had such an insatiable lust for blood, such a violent rush. It would be a long time before I ever felt like that again.   
  
As I came to my senses, I looked around and surveyed the scene. The large warehouse was littered with debris of shattered crates and tables, dead bodies from both sides, and blood spilled in the vicious battle. The air was filled with the stench of fresh kill and the sounds of moaning wounded and whooping, triumphant Fang survivors. It looked like a scene out of a violent nightmare. But somehow, I didn't mind.  
  
"Yes, excellent work everyone! This warehouse is ours, now!" exclaimed Bruce, limping slightly. "We'll show those Kapps that they can't mess with us!"  
  
Ralf hopped down from a higher platform and slapped me on the back. "I saw you fighting, man...damn you're something. This is great, it's a new era for the Fangs! And we helped make it happen!"  
  
I was ecstatic. The gang was my life, and I'd done something grand for it. I finally had something to be proud of.  
  
I've noticed a pattern in life. Just when things seem like they're all going so well that nothing could bring you down...you go down HARD. The sound that slowly replaced the whoops and cheers of our victory was the most horrifying thing a gangster can hear.  
  
Sirens. Accompanied by the terrible sight of armored figures on chocobo-back. Booking our buddies outside the warehouse.  
  
"Damn! A police raid!"  
  
Before we knew it, they were on us. The knights of the Treno Police Force burst into the ruined warehouse and began beating us into submission. It was pandemonium...and unlike the previous battle, this wasn't the fun kind. Naturally, we all fought back, but trained, fully-armored knights are a very different animal from street-brawling gangsters in shabby clothes.   
  
Ironically, it was I who kept most of them occupied. After all, I'm a beast on the battlefield, and even then I was too much of a handful for just one or two knights to handle. And as the police ganged up on me, a lot of my buddies got away...  
  
My fear of being killed by one of my own because it was most convenient never came true. But I was left for dead by them...  
  
They got away because of me, and thanked me by running and hiding as I and a few of the others were arrested. They would go on as they always had, just as they did when Clyde was killed.  
  
And now that I was the victim...I'd rot in prison. The legendary Scarlet would die in obscurity.  
  
And Scarlet did die in Treno Prison. But it's the very same spot where Amarant Coral was born... 


End file.
